


By your side

by Bring_me_a_shrubbery



Category: Call of Duty (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27642020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bring_me_a_shrubbery/pseuds/Bring_me_a_shrubbery
Summary: Soap never got over Price's death. Now here he is, standing in a gulag and looking directly into the eyes of prisoner 627. Price.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	By your side

It’s been three years since operation Kingfish and Soap MacTavish still remembers it like it was yesterday. Every horrible detail of that mission is stuck in his mind forever. The nightmares are still there and he wakes up feeling helpless; remembering the feeling of not being able to do anything as his best friend and mentor was taken away from him forever.

Everything was his fault. At least that’s what his mind is telling him over and over. He knows that nobody else blames him; knows that if Price was here he’d scold him for even thinking that.  
Soap still can’t get rid of the guilt though. He keeps replaying the memories from that day. From the day he lost Price. 

He remembers quick flashes of that day; the bullets hitting the trees all around them as they ran towards the evac point. He remembers the RPG that was fired against him. If he had been quicker; if he had seen it coming, then maybe he wouldn’t have been knocked down. Then maybe Price wouldn’t be dead.  
What followed after that felt like it was happening in slow-motion. When Soap woke up he was being dragged to safety. His head was pounding and he could taste blood. The left side of his face was covered in blood and he could barely see out of his left eye.  
He remembers hearing Price yelling at Ghost to go with them. The enemies were closing in on them; closing in on Price. It was in that moment Soap understood what was happening. Price was going to sacrifice himself for them.

He will never forget the fear and helplessness he felt in that moment. The enemies were moving closer and Soap was being dragged away from the danger; away from Price. It felt like he was abandoning the older man. He couldn’t do that, not after everything they had been through together.  
The image of Price standing alone against all those Russians etched into Soap’s mind as he tried to get away from the people holding him, tried to get back out there; get back to Price’s side where he belonged. Soap kicked out with his legs; he tried everything to get away from the people that were bringing him to safety. By the time they had dragged him into the tilt rotor aircraft that was their way home, he was screaming Price’s name.  
Roach eventually had to hold Soap down as he kept screaming and trying to get up.   
The last thing Soap saw before takeoff was how Price was shot by one of the Russians. He saw him fall down. Then they were out of there. They had left Price behind to die.

Soap had lost friends before. He had seen several good men die in combat. This was much worse though. This was Price; the man who had taught him basically everything he knew about combat, about leadership. The man who had saved his life countless of times and who he trusted more than he had ever trusted anyone. The guilt and the pain still haven’t gone away and probably never will.

After Price’s death Soap started smoking cigars. Not just any cigars; Villa Claras. The same kind that Price always used to smoke.   
Soap used to sit by himself when he smoked; if he closed his eyes it felt like Price was sitting next to him.  
They used to sit like that; Price smoking his cigar and Soap sitting by his side. Both enjoying the silence and the other’s company. Smoking cigars was only a momentary respite from the pain he felt. When the smoke and the familiar smell went away the only thing that was left was emptiness inside him. It was like a big void that he couldn’t shake.   
He tried to focus on his work as much as he could. Focused on training Roach the same way Price had taught him. He kept reminding the young sergeant to constantly check his corners. Roach thrived under Soap’s leadership. He was a good leader. He had learned from the best after all.

The years went by but the pain never stopped. The nightmares didn’t end and the guilt was always present. It did get easier to live with eventually though.

Now three years have passed since operation Kingfish and here Soap stands. In a Gulag and looking directly into the eyes of prisoner 627. He hadn’t recognized him at first; not until the prisoner had turned his head at the sound of Soap’s voice. Not until he looked Soap in the eyes and said his name in that familiar voice. It was Captain Price. Prisoner 627 was none other than Captain John Price.  
Soap doesn’t know what to think at first. This can’t be real. Price has been dead for three years. It’s got to be someone else, but... Those blue eyes looking at him are definitely Price’s and that voice... He’d recognize that voice anywhere. This means Price has been inside a Gulag for three years. The guilt rushes up within Soap again. If only they had come for him sooner. They should have thought about the possibility. He should have thought about it.   
Soap tries to clear his head of all those thoughts. He needs to get Price out of here first. He hands Price his pistol and pats him on the back.

The escape out of the Gulag is chaotic but they manage to make it back to the base in one piece.  
Soap barely sees Price for the rest of the day. Soap’s got a rapport to write and Price is taken to the infirmary as soon as they get back. The man has been a prisoner in a Gulag for three years after all; they need to check for injuries.

The day goes by and when the night comes Soap can’t fall asleep. He’s thinking way too much and his emotions are whirling inside of him. He still can’t believe Price is back. He should be happy about it; he knows that he should. He is happy about it of course, but how can you be glad when you find out that someone you care about so much has been tortured by the Russians for several years?

He gets out of bed and goes outside. He sits down on the cold ground behind the barracks and just looks at the sky for a while before taking out a cigar.  
He sits by himself in the darkness of the night; smoking his cigar when he suddenly hears a voice from behind him.   
“Smoking, huh? Never thought I’d see the day. Do you have one for me too?”   
Price walks over to Soap and sits down next to him. Soap nods and hands him a cigar. He helps him light it too.  
“Thanks. Haven’t smoked one for three years. Russians make terrible hosts.” He chuckles drily at his own joke and Soap tries to force a smile. He can’t though. The guilt is too much.  
“I...” He swallows and tries to gather his thoughts before continuing. “If I had known you were still alive I would have come for you sooner. I’m sorry.” Soap doesn’t look at Price while saying this; instead he just looks down at his knees. He can feel tears form in the corner of his eyes and he blinks; trying to force them away. He feels a hand squeeze his shoulder gently.  
“Hey...” Price’s voice is softer than usual and it just makes Soap want to cry even more. He refuses to look at Price and just keeps his gaze turned down.  
“Soap, look at me.”  
Soap eventually turns his head and looks at Price. The older man’s face is badly bruised and he looks like he has aged way more than three years in the Gulag. He looks tired and Soap can see the pain in his eyes. The guilt rises up within him once again. Price suffered through all of that because of him.  
“You have to stop blaming yourself. None of this is your fault. Me getting kidnapped was not your fault. I made the choice to stay behind, not you. And after that... You could not have known I was alive. You did come for me and I’m finally out of there thanks to you. That’s all that matters right now okay? I don’t want you beating yourself up over this.”  
Soap swallows and desperately tries to hold back the tears.  
“I watched you die. At least that’s what I thought anyway. I watched you die and I couldn’t save you.”  
“Listen to me, Soap. You did nothing wrong. What happened wasn’t just though on me. It’s obvious you’ve had a rough time too. And despite that you’ve done a really good job with leading the team. I’m proud of you, son.”  
Soap can’t hold the tears back anymore and he breaks down. He hates himself for it; he is afraid that Price is going to think he’s weak. Price doesn’t say anything about his breakdown though. He just goes back to smoking his cigar while he gently rubs Soap’s back with the hand that’s not holding the cigar. Soap cries for a while and in a way it feels good. It feels good to finally let out all of those emotions he’s kept inside for years. All that guilt and pain.  
Price’s presence is soothing; the hand on his back reassures Soap that the older man is actually here. That he isn’t an illusion of Soap’s mind.  
Soap stops crying after a while and wipes his tears with the back of his hand.  
“I’m sorry.”  
Price just shakes his head. “You’ve got no reason to apologize.”  
He looks at the starry sky for a while; seemingly lost in thought.   
“You know, there was a while I never thought I’d see the sky again. I owe you for this.”  
Soap doesn’t know what to respond to that, so he just looks at Price for a while.  
“I’ve really missed you, you know?”  
“I’ve missed you too.” Price pats him on the arm before looking up at the sky again. Neither of them says anything else for a while; they just sit there silently enjoying each other’s company. Just like old times. 

They can’t sit like that all night though; Soap moves to stand up after a while and offers a hand to help Price up. Once the older man is up on his feet Soap smiles at him.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” As soon as the question comes out he realizes how desperate he sounds. Maybe he is. He’s still afraid this was all just a dream. That he’ll wake up in the morning and Price will be nowhere to be seen.  
Price seems to pick up on his fear. He puts his hand on Soap’s arm. “I’ll be there.”  
Soap nods and then grins at him. “Goodnight, old man.”   
Price chuckles. “Haven’t lost your cheekiness I see.”  
“Never.”  
“Goodnight Soap, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The pain and the guilt will never completely go away and Soap knows that. There will always be a part of him that looks back at that mission and blames himself for what happened to Price. The difference is that he can also be proud of himself. Proud of keeping the team together, proud of helping Price out of the Gulag. When he eventually falls asleep that night he does it with a smile on his face. Things are still though but he has his friend back. That’s all he can ask for.

**Author's Note:**

> This is only the second fan fic I've ever written, so I'm still learning. If you've read this I'd be super happy if you left a comment! :D


End file.
